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In the land of dreams the past
Make no my spirit within me burn
For the scenes and the hours that may not return
Therefore disturbing dreams
Trouble the secret stream
Shall i then fear the tone?
No it is not the warning voice!
With all the melodies
Her voice was heard from the shore singing
A mournful death-song
Until overpowered by the sound of the waters
In which she perished
Down the Mississippi a light canoe  towards the cataracts
As by the tempest´s wing 
The mist of spray rose with the cataract´s thunder
Her bay lay sleeping at her breath
And her dark hair waved
Pressed her child to her beating heart
Her sweet voice sing her song of death 
I cannot live without that light- father of waves, roll on.-

An Indian woman driven to despair
By her husband desertion of her for another wife, 
Entered a canoe with her children
And rowed it down towards the cataracts.


2

The day is ending into my thoughts
I was thinking of very old times
When i just returned to Amsterdam
I tottered the streets 
The grachten houses
Of a street as still
And decorous as well kept
I swung the mainstreams
And waited helplessly

She was perhaps stopped
And her very fate
Hung in the balance with the mass ring
Like the gate of the everlasting night

What would she do now?

I change my floppy disk, usb
I  had expected to see her
Showing with her white teeth smiling
Continuosly.


3

What made this emotion
So overpowering was
How shall i define it
One moral chock i received
As if something
In their development
A world of the dead
Altogether monstrous, intolerable to thoughts
And odious to the soul
Deadly danger

Dreams have breath
And tear and torture
In their development

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